Guys Like Me
by ReadingBetweenTheLines
Summary: Wren Preston was a bookworm. Quinn Ely was a football jock. It just didn't fit. They weren't supposed to socialize. They weren't even to be seen together. So God knows dating is off limits. Right? Guardian Angel restart Quinn/OC
1. Too Short

Thick ropes of muscle moved beneath the dark chocolate coat of the bay. His powerful hindquarters rocketed him across the Nevada sand. Tendrils of ebony mane flowed through the air like silk. His thick tail streaming behind them like a black banner. The horse was almost Friesian-like in appearance as he flew across the sand, seeming as though his hooves hardly touched the ground. His rider, a smile on her face, stood in her stirrups, her weight deep in her heels. She held the reins short, at the base of the pastel blue rubber of the reins, her knuckles pressed halfway up the arc of his neck. The small girl, short hair tucked up into her Texium helmet, a helmet that had taken her many summers of work to afford, moved with the horse as they charged across the _playa_, leaving a smaller bay mustang in their wake.

Samantha Forster smiled at the girl in front of her as the Welsh Cob/Thoroughbred leapt a small shrubbery, the girl never thrown off balance. Finally when they reached the end of War Drum Flats the girl pulled up, fighting the powerful creature. The small girl, maybe five foot four, managed to control the hyper horse. The dark bay arced his thick neck, his chin nearly bumping his broad chest, and pranced, bringing his knees up level with his shoulder before snapping them out in front of him in a strange version of a Spanish walk.

"Wren, your horse is amazing!"

The girl, Asian in descent, laughed, "I got him from an old, old neighbor as a yearling for five dollars and a barn cleaning."

Sam shook her head, "It's amazing to think you can get something like that so cheap."

Wren, finally able to let the reins slide through her gloved fingers, allowed the horse to stretch his neck and let down his head, "The only reason he looks like this is because I ride him nearly twenty four seven and I take really good care of him. Plus I found this supplement that makes his coat really shiny. Didn't I boy."

She crooned to the horse as she rubbed the side of his neck.

"What kind of saddle is that?" Sam asked, "I've never seen one with the suede on the seat and down the flap."

"This is actually a really expensive saddle. It's a Wintec Pro Jumping saddle or something like that but this lady had bought it and then her basement flooded and it got all moldy so she sold it to me for two hundred dollars. It was amazing! I was in heaven for like weeks after that I just could not believe it!"

Sam laughed at the girl's enthusiasm. Wren hugged herself, she was still on a high at the deal she got. It wasn't until after she had bought the saddle that she had realized how much it was really worth. She smiled. It had taken long summers of cutting and stacking wood, stacking hay bales, cleaning stalls, feeding and watering horses, and much more to pay for everything that she had bought. Though she wouldn't have had it any other way.

Sam laughed again noticing Wren's half chaps, "How can you have this super nice saddle and helmet and still wear half chaps that you have to duct tape?"

"Everything I owned before this stuff was like my half chaps: hardly usable. My saddle had a broken tree and it had to be like fifty years old. One day I was riding and the stirrup leather just snapped. My helmet before this was really old and the bump thing on the top had broken off and the Velcro wouldn't hold my visor up anymore. And I had to make all that stupid stuff last until I could save up for this stuff."

"It sounds like everything is really expensive."

"It really just depends on the quality you want. I actually fall off this guy a lot 'cause he is so spooky so I wanted a really good helmet. I'm getting better though. My reflexes are getting super fast. I spent a lot of my trail rides walking because he shot out from under me or something."

Sam smiled thinking of her own experiences, "I know how that is."

By then they had reached Riverbend.

* * *

Quinn stepped out of the truck and squinted into the sun. Jake had talked him into coming along with him. Apparently, Wyatt was planning to rebuild the chicken coop and the brothers had been enlisted to help him. Grumbling he took a tool box out of the truck bed. The chicken coop was only bare bones. The skeleton of the coop was as far as the Riverbend boys had gotten. The rest of the Ely boys would be arriving shortly.

Hooves thudded across the bridge leading into Riverbend. Quinn turned to see two riders entering into Riverbend. Sam and Ace were obvious but who was the other girl? He had never seen her before. She sat astride a glossy bay, his head high as his wide nostrils took in the scent of his surroundings. She sat as tall as her petite body allowed and her heels were deep. Her hair must have been tucked up into the helmet because only a few ebony strands were visible.

The large puffs of sheepskin of her half pad almost seemed to overshadow her small saddle. The girl pulled her horse up and dismounted.

"Lance is taking the move really well," the girl stroked the horse's neck.

Although the horse was probably around sixteen hands he seemed much larger with his elevated gates and the his curious high head.

"Wren, you can put him in here," Sam motioned the corral that stood beside the hitching post that Ace was tied to.

Quinn glanced back at his brother, who was busily working. Surely he wouldn't mind if he satisfied his curiosity. Quinn sidled over to where Wren was untacking Lance.

"Would you like any help? Um, I'm Quinn," he asked.

The girl turned to him. Her helmet strap hung down away from her face. She had to look up at him, being as there was at least a foot in height difference. She slid the dark plastic frames ofher glasses up the bridge of her nose.

The girl was thinner than most with subtle curves. She wasn't beautiful, pretty yes, but nothing exceptional. A few strands of dark hair had worked loose from the helmet and framed her face, the longest strands just reaching her jaw bone.

"I guess," she said quietly as she turned back to her horse, trying to hide her blush.

"I'll get your saddle for you. I mean you're so small-"

The girl paused, a hint of irritation was in her voice, "What do you mean I'm so small?"

"Well, I was just saying that, you know, I'd get the saddle for you since it might be hard to reach-"

She huffed and stepped in front of him to grab the saddle, "Never mind. I don't need your help."

She took the saddle and set it on the hitching post closest to the corral.

"Don't worry," Sam said, "She's just a little touchy about the height thing. Besides, she said more words to you then in the first two days that I knew her."

Quinn followed Sam over to where she had tied Ace, "Who is she?"

"She's Wren Preston. She's Preston's granddaughter. Her dad is in Iraq so she's staying with him and Judy until he comes home. She starts school with us tomorrow."

"How did you come about meeting her. I don't think I had even heard about this."

"Well, Gram thought it would be the 'neighborly thing to do' if I went and introduced myself. Besides, I know how it is when you move and have no friends. That was Friday. Today was the first day we actually carried a conversation. She's just shy. Worse than Jake."

* * *

Wren led Lance into the corral and let him loose. Standing in the open gate she watched her horse explore the small arena. Wren's dark eyes wandered toward Sam where she stood talking a young man, the same young man who had called her short. How dare he?!

Anger still heated her veins. But then she saw him smile. It all melted. What a wonderful smile he had. Tall and thickly built the Native American had a body to die for, and here she was turning down his help. She shook her head, people like that just don't talk to 'nerds' like her and yet she managed to push away the only man that did.

She glanced up at him one last time. Just then he glanced over at her too. Their eyes met and locked. A blushed heated her face and she looked away, bringing her attention back to her horse. Again she scolded herself. Tomorrow she'd be starting school. A sick feeling weighted her stomach, and she wouldn't have any friends there. Sam was the only person she felt she could talk to.

And who was this Quinn guy?

* * *

**Okaaaaay. Weeellll I'm not sure if this is better than the first story or not...**


	2. Badminton

Wren stared at herself in the tall mirror that hung on her wall. It was long enough to show her whole body. She wore dark skinny that clumped at the her ankles and a dark teal baby doll shirt with a wide black belt that sat just below the breast. There had been tons of other accessories that her fashion-adviser, aka best friend, had to put together for her. The outfit had been specifically for her first day at the new school. Wren stared at herself in the mirror. She was cute. Just cute. Nothing more.

Her legs were slightly bowed, whether it was because of all the riding she did she wasn't sure. She was somewhat toned, probably because of the work she had done over the many summers back home. She shrugged and stuffed her keys in her back pocket, the rainbow lanyard hanging out. Grabbing her messenger bag, which was covered in buttons with little sayings on them, she dashed out of her room and down to the kitchen where Preston was making eggs.

She set down her bag and laced up her converse.

"Nervous?"

Wren glanced up at him, "Yeah. A little."

He nodded his head and turned back to his pan.

"It's not like I haven't done this before," Wren said, "With Dad having to relocate all the time."

She sat down at the table just as he set a steaming plate in front of her.

"Now you eat up you hear," he smiled, "I'm gonna have to fatten you up a bit."

Wren smiled, "Believe me. Dad's tried."

* * *

Wren closed the door of the Volkswagen beetle that sat outside of the barn. It was an old model, '53. The glossy dark teal paint glimmered in the sun. It had been a going away present for her one of her friends. He had completely redone the car: inside with white seats and teal detailing, convertible top replaced with a new white one, engine cleaned and repaired, tires replaced. It should have cost her thousands but he did it for free.

She shifted into reverse, swift and clean. It hadn't started that way. When her dad had brought it home from the junk yard that first day, she had nearly cried. It had been so ugly. Covered with rust, most of the rust going straight through the car. Worst of all, it had been a stick shift. She hadn't even known what it was before her Bug.

When she got to the end of the driveway, she remembered. She got out and tugged down the top. It was such a nice day. Why not?

She had been just about to turn onto the country highway when she spotted two girls standing at the corner, their back packs at their feet. Wren instantly recognized Sam.

"Hey, do you want a ride?" Wren shouted to her.

Sam looked up at her, a smile erupting on her face, "Really?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Is it okay if Jen comes? I can't leave my best friend behind."

Wren smiled and nodded, she short, layered hair bouncing. The longest layers of her hair reached no farther than her jaw. It hadn't always been short but when one of her friends "accidentally" got their gum stuck in her hair she had been forced to cut it. Wren knew the whole time it was in Brenda's plot to get it cut short and cut the way her fashion-adviser had suggested. It's been short for three months now.

"Wren, this is Jen," Sam said as she slid into the seat next to her and Jen hopped over the side, being as it was a two door model, and landed softly in the back seat.

"Hi Jen"

* * *

Wren dodged into calculus. The whole day had been a disaster, and she was only in her third class. She moved to the back of the class and choose a seat there, setting her stuff down to assure that it didn't get stolen, and went up to the teacher to tell him that she was new.

This teacher was the youngest she had had so far. He looked like he was right out of college, almost strange to think that he was a teacher. Her first teacher, Mrs. Moore, had been old and cruel. She grilled Wren in front of the class about world history (being the name of the class). Lucky for Wren she was a book worm and a good student and was able to fire back good replies for most of the questions. In her second period, she had an middle aged man by the name of Mr. Fletcher. The second she stepped into the room there was a strange odor. The closer she came to Mr. Fletcher the worse it got. Of course she happened to be assigned the seat closest to the teacher because all of the farther ones had been taken. (Wonder why...)

With a sigh she plopped down in her seat. Mr. Howser seemed nice enough. He had actually smile and cooperated with her. She set her new text book in front of her. Calculus. She could tell already that this was going to be a good class. Math always was.

Math was Wren's strongest subject. She never got anything below a ninety-five on any of her tests. Fire off some numbers and she could subtract them in her head in a matter of seconds. This skill often made her a tutor at her school, which is how she met most of her friends.

Wren let out a breath as the final bell rang and the students scurried to their desks. Wren glanced over at the kid next to her. Only to see his shoulder. She swallowed hard as she looked up at him. He was huge. Well over six foot. Maybe even over six foot five! Wren already felt small. Sitting next to him she felt tiny. Then he slid down in his seat leaning head against the wall behind him. It made him a little less huge. He would have been intimidating though if he had been as thickly built as that Quinn guy she met at Riverbend Ranch.

"Taylor Johnson," the teacher called.

"Here," the tall student replied.

Taylor Johnson was the giant who sat beside her in calculus. He glanced over at her, catching her staring. Wren snapped her attention back to her book, her face burning hot. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him smile.

"Are you the new girl that I've heard about."

"Wren Preston."

"Here," Wren replied, her voice shaky, "Yeah I am, I think. I mean no one has ever talked about me before."

He smiled, "Well why not. You seem nice enough."

She blushed even darker. She shook her head at him. Sure. Besides, no one ever talks about the nerdy girl. She brushed a strand of short hair away from her eyes then pushed her dark lenses farther up her nose.

"So where did you come from?" he asked as the teacher instructed for them to open their books to the first chapter.

"Virginia."

"Really? You've come quiet a ways then."

Wren nodded her head and wrote down the steps to solving the first problem.

"That would explain why you don't look like all the other girls here."

Wren nearly laughed out loud, "I have a look?"

"Mrs. Preston?" Wren glance jolted up to meet the smug look on the teacher's face. Then she almost smiled.

"What does this equal?" the look on his face was like all the other teacher's when they were testing her. This one had thought he had caught her off guard. Thought.

"Thirty-seven point nine eight."

The teacher smiled, "I think I'm going to like you Mrs. Preston."

When the teacher turned back to his board Wren let out breath.

"That was amazing," Taylor whispered, "I suck at this."

Wren glanced over at him, "It's easy."

* * *

When the bell rang at the end of class Wren slowly picked up her books. She didn't want to go to her next class. Never. Gym. The sick feeling in her stomach just wouldn't go away. She was horrible in all sports. Except track. She could run fast but once you start adding in all those other things it started to go down hill.

"Hey new girl!"

Wren turned to see Taylor jogging down the hall toward her, "Where you headed?"

"Gym," she grumbled.

"Really? Me too?" he said walking beside her, "Who do you have to a teacher."

"Um, Smith is all it says on the paper."

He laughed, "Mr. Smith is awesome! He's my football coach. Gee, with Quinn in the class too this should be interesting."

"Quinn who?" Wren perked at the name. Could it be him?

Wren felt stupid for being excited that he might be in the same class as that annoying guy but for some reason she just couldn't help it.

"So you know this Quinn I speak of?" Taylor asked, a sly look on his face.

Wren blushed, "I have no idea what you could be thinking but I get the idea that this might not be so good."

"So is the guy you know Indian? 'Cause I don't think I know any other Indian Quinn's," he laughed.

"Yeah. I think so. With short spiky hair."

"Yep that's be him. Guard for the football team."

Wren nodded. She wasn't surprised to hear that. He was a big guy and would be ideal for a guard. She swallowed hard as she approached the gym lockers. This will be interesting.

* * *

Wren eased herself through the crowd of kids in front of the gymnasium entrance. She felt strange in the uniform. The school colors were navy and gold, which sadly, resulted in gold shorts. It felt as though all attention would be draw to her butt. The shirt however was navy blue and some how managed to look slightly feminine on her. She shuffled along, chewing the edge of her thumb nail. At this point of the day she didn't care if people saw the wire of her retainer, even if it made her feel like even more of a nerd.

She shifted her glasses just as she spotted her gym teacher. Standing beside him was Taylor and another gym student who was standing directly behind her teacher. Taylor waved enthusiastic and Mr. Smith turned to see her.

"So I take it you are Ms. Preston?" the teacher asked.

"Yeah."

Wren glanced over to see Quinn, who stood beside Taylor. He was studying her, his eyes travel over her body, assessing her. She shifted slightly. Obviously he didn't think she noticed his staring.

"Well, there's not much I have to tell you. We are doing badminton and we usually start class with two laps around the track."

Wren nodded. Two laps. That'd be easy.

"Come on," Taylor pulled her toward the line of students, Quinn following behind, "We line up in alphabetical order."

* * *

Wren breathed in deep, bringing fresh Nevada air into her lungs. She stuck her hands in the pocket of her shorts. Of course, she wouldn't have the same gym as Sam. It couldn't possibly work that well.

"Hey you," Taylor said jogging up beside her as they stepped onto the track, "I'll run with you."

"Gee, thanks."

Quinn jogged up beside Taylor, "You run very often he asked."

"Sorta. I almost tried out for track last year."

Taylor nodded then smiled, "Well, let's see what your made of."

Taylor broke into an even jogged. Wren moved to keep up beside him. The first lap was easy. It was nice to stretch her legs again. But it seemed as though her legs were tiring when they made the first turn of the second lap. Wren grimaced, working through the tiredness of her legs. She could do this. It was only two laps.

Quinn moved to jog in stride with her, "You can make it."

Four words. He didn't even look down at her or say anything else. And yet, it seemed to do the trick. She repeated the words over and over in her head. You can make it. You can make it. She chanted the words like a mantra. You can make it.

She let out a gust of breath as she crossed the line on the second lap. She walked to the edge of the track and collapsed in the grass.

"Come on," Quinn pulled her up, smiling, "If you lay there you will cramp."

Wren made a single whining sound but she walked with him.

"You ever played badminton before?"

Wren nodded, "Like twice in my life."

Quinn grinned, "This should be interesting."

* * *

The badminton courts were set up in the large gym. Taylor had already decided that he and Wren would be on a team the instant she stepped on the court. She didn't fight it. It would be a good thing to have the long legged boy on her team.

Quinn dropped the bird down over his racket and served it smoothly sending it over the net. For a while they'd volley the birdie back and forth until Wren got the chance to hit it. Then it'd plop to the ground beside her. Grumbling she'd pick it up and hand it to Taylor to serve, since she was no good at it.

By the middle of the period the game consisted of Taylor, Quinn, and Quinn's brother Jake spike the ball back and forth to each other with Wren trying to avoid being hit.

"This one is coming to you!" Taylor shouted as Quinn swung to hit it.

Wren looked toward him in time to see a birdie flying towards her. She moved to step out of the way and only managed to trip herself. She landed on the floor with a clamor from her racket. Quinn rushed over to her.

"Geez, I'm sorry did I hit you?"

Wren looked up to see him kneeling next to her. She sat back on the heels of her palms her blushing face turned away from him.

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

How could she do that in front of him? She yelled at herself. She's such a clutz! She was so graceful on a horse but as soon as she stood on her own two feet it was all she could do to keep herself upright. Quinn grabbed her wrist and helped her up. She bent to pick up her racket but Quinn had already scooped it up for her.

"Thanks," she murmured, still embarrassed, as she moved back to her position beside Taylor.

Quinn glanced guiltily at Taylor before he made his way back to the other side of the net.

"And the day just keeps getting better," Wren mumbled under her breath.

* * *

**Long Chapter. :D Review.**


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